My first treatment of Adriamycin and Cytoxan chemotherapy was on Friday, November 21st, 2014. My boyfriend took the day off from work to take me, and my mother came along too. I woke up early, had a light breakfast of cereal and fruit, and packed for my morning stay at the hospital: the bright afghan I had crocheted and plenty of Fiji water. I saw my oncologist - he tried prepping me emotionally for my first infusion; I was nervous but ready. I am grateful to have good veins - I don't need to have a port placed into my chest. The nurse in the infusion center is young and tried to be gentle, but the prick hurt a lot! She gave me steroids and Benadryl to counteract any allergies I might have to the chemo cocktail, and anti-nausea medication, all through iv. I watched as pre-meds dripped into my body for two hours before the AC was even administered. Then, I fell asleep and woke up hours later when the treatment was completed. I was happy to have missed a large part of the morning, I wish I could sleep through the next few months and wake up when it's all over. I had a headache and felt a little dizzy - not myself. I ate only crackers with plenty of water, and once home, I soon fell violently ill, vomiting vile every twenty minutes. I called my oncologist's answering service a few times with mo reply, so I panicked and went on my way to the emergency room. Dr. Stephen Abo finally called back and told me to just take more meds and go to sleep. My boyfriend made his irritation for "jumping to conclusions" clear: I "should" have stayed home and waited for the return call, apparently continuing to vomit. Nonetheless, I was following hospital discharge orders, and yearned to be in an environment where I was understood, coddled and monitored. Instead, I hopelessly crawled into bed and tried to fall asleep, dismayed that I was with someone incapable of showing me loving support.